Thirty Roads To Romance
by Merry Faerie
Summary: Ami and Zoisite learn that love isn't simple or straightforward, but then, they like it better that way. Thirty short stories, aka drabbles, surrounding their romance.
1. New, SilMil Pt 1

_#30: Aesthesiogen_

_Defined as "something producing sensation; a stimulus or suggestion producing a sensory effect"_

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"How…intriguing," she breathed as she stooped to pick up a collection of brilliant red and yellow leaves. "I should have realized that your vegetation couldn't be the same as that of Mercury's—but changing colors? It's—"

"Intriguing?" he teased her.

Ami sniffed. "I don't recall poking fun at _you_ for being so enthralled by the Mercurian elevators." She promptly dumped the leaves back onto the ground, burying the dirt in color.

Zoisite protested: "They were invisible! How can you not be fascinated by that?"

"Just because your Terran technology is practically primeval compared to—"

His hands went up in defeat. "Alright, I surrender; you clearly belong to the superior planet. But," he gestured around, "you can't deny the beauty of Earth."

She couldn't, Ami admitted to herself as she took in the blue-enameled skies and the gold autumnal tones of the foliage. She couldn't deny that the dull hues of Mercury could never compete with the colors of Earth. She envied him a little for it. People seldom realized how much the princess of Mercury appreciated and loved beauty in nature, in architecture, in…people, she added to herself when she saw the way Zoisite's boyishly handsome looks caught the sun's beams. She tried to shake that thought away—he was undeniably attractive, but she couldn't actually _be_ attracted to him. He was merely showing her around his prince's domain, the forest bordering the castle grounds. In order to pass the time away. That was all.

He smiled down at her. "The best way to experience Earth is to really feel it. To sense it. Close your eyes."

She tilted her head skeptically, but did not protest when his hands rose to cover her eyes.

They walked a little farther on, and Zoisite moved to whisper in her ear.

"Can you smell it? Taste it?" His hot breath had her preoccupied with _feeling _it actually.

Ami inhaled a smoky scent of meat, a spicy-smelling bread and other intermingling, aromatic smells. Zoisite's hands dropped from her eyes.

"What are they?" Ami asked, staring at the spread of unusual…layers…of food. They were all piled into a collection of dishes set out on a makeshift table, what Zoisite called a picnic table. Stumps served as seats.

Zoisite's face was still close to hers as he inhaled the jasmine scent that seemed to rise in delicate wisps from her person. "Try one." Ami seated herself warily and began searching for something.

"What are you looking for?"

"Silverware."

"None needed," Zoisite reassured her. He held out one of the pieces of food. "Shall I feed you?" he asked mischievously.

She hurriedly took the proferred object and took a small bite of the leavened bread and lamb meat. Bread and meat, sauces and tomatoes layered together. Genius.

"Well?"

"It's…" she hesitated. "It's delicious."

Zoisite split into another grin. "It's a sandwich."

Ami summoned up her etiquette training and refrained from spitting it out on the spot. "I'm sorry? _Sand_?"

Zoisite grinned once more. "It's safe, I promise."

He ducked his head down so that their faces were level with one another, and she could see the gold specks in his green eyes. She could make out a scattering of tiny freckles around his nose as his lips traveled closer to her. Slyly, he took a bite from the sandwich still in Ami's hands.

"Entirely safe."

She sensed something then with a sense beyond the five other burdensome ones. He felt it, too. He'd felt it long before.


	2. Out of Habit, SilMil Pt 3

_I lurved writing this one._

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#26: Ananias

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"I declare, my lord, you are impossible." Her countenance was perfectly calm and dispassionate--except for her eyes. The silver flecks that lit them danced as those same orbs peered at him over her white fan. 

Zoisite handed an already-inebriated duke his unfinished glass of claret before offering the delight beside him his arm. She took it, and my lord disguised his pleasure at knowing that she no longer hesitated to accept his arm. 

"Why on Earth (or is it Moon) do you say so, Ami?" he inquired as they took a turn around the palace ballroom. Crystal lights shone down upon them and the scores of other gentry who drank, dined, and danced to the harmony of singing violins. 

"You, sir, are a compulsive liar." 

He seemed shocked at the accusation. "You wound me, my lady." 

"As if you haven't been told it before. You speak such...twaddle at times." Ami had long since given up on being terse and cold with the Shitennou. He had proven himself impervious to her ice and it would be dishonest of her to tell herself she didn't prefer it that way. 

"Twaddle?" Zoisite bit back a grin. 

"No need for me to repeat it. You know very well what you said." 

"But what I said is true!" he said fervently. 

She drew back slightly with a challenging look. "That I am the most radiant diamond in the room?" 

When she repeated his words with such disdain, it rather stole their lustre. "Of course." 

"Have you ever heard the term 'Ananias,' sir?" 

"Never. Is it a term of endearment?" he asked, bending over slightly, laying his hand over the tiny one of hers he possessed. 

Her fan fluttered, waving away a bright blush. She endured his playful flirtation, but it was difficult to fight back the heat in her cheeks when he was in one of _those_ moods. "_No, _it is not," she said firmly. "It is a name I learned while reading one of your sacred Earth books. Your Bible?" 

He perked an ear. 

"Ananias was a habitual liar." 

"I see." 

"And would you like to know what came of his lying?" 

"If you wish to tell me." 

"He was struck down, dead," she deadpanned. 

Zoisite blanched. "Are you insinuating that I deserve that same fate?" 

"Of course not, my lord," she said sweetly. "Though you may want to watch your tongue, at least for tonight." 

A strand of coppery-gold hair fell across his face as he made an elegant leg. "I shall guard my tongue if you will at least dance with me." 

She acquiesced, and he led her onto the gleaming dance floor. 

"You're right," he said as his hand fell to her waist with practiced ease. "You're not quite the most radiant diamond in the room." 

A smile flitted across her face. "How ungallant of you, sir. But I applaud your honesty." 

"No, there are, at the very least, six other women here who outshine you." 

He was toying with her, she knew. "Do tell?" 

"Yes. Lady Rei being one of them." He indicated her. Certainly she looked lovely, even with the corners of her rosy lips turned down in a frown. Her crimson skirts fanned out as she stomped away from a drunken but persistent suitor who was known as Jadeite, King of the Far East on the days he was sober. All the other days, his friends preferred to pretend they didn't know him. 

"Hmm." 

"But you know...radiant as they may be, you are the only diamond among them I could ever lose my heart too. Of course, I already have." He smiled down on her softly, quietly. 

She inhaled sharply. "M-my lord. Please, cease with your jokes. You promised to guard your tongue and...your lies." She backed away, making as if to exit the dance floor, but he caught her lace-adorned wrist and drew her back. Her jewel-blue eyes locked on his intense green ones. 

Tenderly, he ran the back of his hand down her face and its startled features. 

"Even a habitual liar can tell the odd truth, Ami." 


	3. Hard Headed, SilMil Pt 4

_I'm sorry if this causes confusion. This drabble is a part of the "Silver Millenium" (or "SilMil") series. As you may have noticed I renamed the chapters so that they show what time period they reflect. Each era will have something of a storyline or at least have some sort of chronology to it. This one takes place after "Out of Habit" (SilMil, Part 3) but before "The Gift" (SilMil, Part 5), making it Part 4. Later on, when I've posted all the parts I'll arrange the chapters in order (by "Reincarnated," "Engaged," "SilMil," and "Married Life"). For now, though they'll be coming out in random order, filling in gaps in story lines, offering back stories, and tying up loose ends._

For now, I hope you'll bear with me, hehe.

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_#12: Gargoyle_

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The feel of the gravelly rock beneath his hands was a relief, though it invariably made him think of how it contrasted with the smooth innocence of her arms (bared by the cut of her simple silk gown the night before last). He seated himself on the uppermost wall of the castle. His eyes unseeingly stared into the courtyard below.

The stone gargoyles stooping on either side of him could not even match his hard expression, although the gemstones serving as their eyes were reputed to be unbreakable. He realized that this mission to Pluto had not turned out how he had expected.

A soft footstep caused him to tear himself from the view and look at her.

Mercury opened her mouth, but he cut her off before she could say anything. "You should return to the Moon. There's no more work to be done here…at least not by you."

His words cut at her, harder than she could have expected, but she would not let it show. "My duty is to represent my planet, my princess, and the Alliance. And that means wrapping up these talks with the Plutonians."

"Far be it from me to interfere with your talks. For my part, I prefer handling this type of thing alone."

"Zoisite please, don't be so sulky."

"Sulky?" He turned back to focus on the grassy plane below. "Every State is the same. Every obstinate, narrow-minded citizen of every authoritarian—"

"Now that's not fair. Earth is as much an authoritarian state as any other planet."

In frustration, Zoisite raked his fingers through his hair, the hair, she mused, that made her wish for Earth once more, for those autumn leaves of gold and brown. She wondered when he would return there. She barely dared wonder if he would take her with him when he did go.

"They won't listen to your reasoning. They're too used to you, so used to your calm that they brush you and your ideas aside." That stung. "We need some fire in these talks or else they'll fall apart. Reason—"

"Is the only solution."

"For an alliance between these planets and Earth? Hardly," he said bitterly.

"No."

He glanced at her, his eyes suddenly betraying an uncertainty and what resembled…vulnerability. Ami inhaled quietly at that. "What…are we really talking about, Zoisite?"

He continued to stare into her eyes. He missed the glitter of mischief he'd glimpsed at Serenity's dress ball on that enchanted night. He yearned for the hope in her eyes, the faint plea for…for what? Love? No, he'd been fooling himself into thinking that was the case. He'd hinted at his feelings for her, but it was no use.

"Damn it, Amy," he swore with passion. He lunged towards her, leaving the rock wall to grasp her by the shoulders. "Don't you…?"

The manner in which he bent over her caused her heart to throb painfully. His grip itself felt a tad too tight, but most of all the hunger in his face frightened her in an unusually pleasant way. What were these emotions that tangled her up?

He almost kissed her then, his mouth inches from her coral lips. It was all so tempting.

He released her form suddenly, backing away. "Perhaps we should report to their Highnesses on the Moon about this so they can send others here. From there it will be easier for me."

Ami summoned her ability to speak to say: "What do you mean?"

"It will be easier for me to return to Earth from the Moon. Apparently there are talks between Britain and mainland Europe I must assist with."

"Oh. I see."

Why didn't she object? _Stop me, Ami. Tell me not to go. Beg me to take you with me.  
_  
She fixed her gaze on one of the stone gargoyles and didn't speak.

As he turned on his heel, Zane's eyes took on the impenetrable stare of the gargoyle. He wished for a heart of stone like that of a gargoyle as well. Then again…gargoyles probably didn't have hearts. How much simpler that would make everything.


	4. The Gift, SilMil Pt 5

_Another Silver Millenium drabble. I hope it works alright with the last one._

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#19: Stay

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"Must be nearly midnight." 

Her head bobbed as her eyes left his and clung to the stars. The orb that was Earth seemed to glare back at her.

"Yes." It felt painful to speak.

He had been the epitome of courteousness all night. No stray hand settling on the small of her back, no kiss to her hands, cold now and lost in a spray of blossoms and leaves. She watched the tree's branches quaver in the still night as she caressed a white bud.

"I…am surprised Kunzite hasn't come tramping into the gardens looking for me."

"As am I."

Seating himself on a latticed bench, he glanced up at her delicate form ruefully. She had seemed so distant for the past hour.

"Is there anything you'd like me to bring you? From Barcelona, maybe? Or Vienna?" He knew her love for souvenirs, the ivory castanets dyed royal blue, the timeworn tome that had once served as a general's journal.

"No."

"Ami…" He stretched a hand out slightly, then abruptly tucked it back into the folds of his cloak as she turned to face him. A yearning seized him. How he longed to touch her face and stare at it for days and kiss it…

"Nothing? A spangled fan maybe to match that dress--"

"_Nothing_. There is nothing you could bring me to make me--" She stopped abruptly, abashed by her near-outburst.

He gazed at her. "Make you what?"

She shook her head, dark blue locks swinging. Her eyelashes were damp suddenly. How silly.

But how could he? How could he, out of the blue, announce he was returning to Earth to tend to ambassadorial affairs? Who knew how long he would be gone?

Who knew if he would ever return?

A strangled sob nearly escaped her but she swallowed it in time.

If only he had said something, anything. Not even one of his flirtatious compliments, the kind she silently laughed off, a blush gracing her cheeks all the while.

But no. There was no hope.

"There is nothing I can give you to make you happy, Ami?" he said shrewdly.

She started, but composed herself almost at once. "Just so."

Zoisite pursed his lips and rose from his seat, leveling his gaze at the entrancing figure with white flowers for hands, holding their brethren.

"I bid you goodnight then, my lady. I trust that you will sleep well. I must bid you farewell also as I leave at dawn."

He approached her and she gifted him with a hand to kiss.

"Our time together has been a pleasure. Goodbye." He nodded curtly and turned on his heel, aware of a clenching ache in his chest. He wasn't sure he could ever return, now that he knew. He had longed for her to sit beside him into the long hours, craved to have her body next to his to hold.

Mostly, he had longed to know that there was hope. But there was none. Her cold words told him that much.

"Wait!"

His boots skidded short.

She pattered towards him, a hand outstretched, and to his delighted bewilderment that hand grasped his cloak and she buried her face in his strong chest.

"Stay. Oh please, don't. Don't. Please stay."

His fingers held her chin and brought it up so he could look into it closely. The ghosts of teardrops stained her cheeks.

"I lied," she said softly.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"There is something you can give me to make me happy. Give me your heart, Zoisite. Please." She was as a child, begging for the one gift she had longed for as long as she had known.

His ears rang with the sound of the dulcet words and he groaned softly.

"You already have it my darling."

She sobbed slightly and with tenderness, he lifted her face up once more. Without further ado he kissed it and the sweet lips fiercely.

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**Reviews are much loved by yours truly.**


	5. Wherever You Will Go, SilMil Pt 8

_This drabble was partly inspired by The Calling's song, _Wherever You Will Go. _And now for your daily plate of angst._

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#22: Shadow

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_--- _

_...To light the shadows on your face _

---

The world was a fog of harsh red light, punctuated with glittering steel. A film of tears blurred her vision and thankfully, the roars and blood-curdling screams had dulled to sighs and whispers. If she wished hard enough, maybe it would all fade to nothing.

"_Amy." _

His knees ground against soughing dirt, his voice strangled. An icy blush spread over his features as he bent over her.

If her brain had permitted her, she would have grimly surveyed her handiwork with some pleasure. Instead, she felt her form quiver and suddenly his hands settled themselves on the sides of her face.

"Into the shadows, both of us then?" he asked her hoarsely.

"Don't follow me, Zoisite," she said in a dimming voice.

His chuckle was grating and interrupted by intermittent coughs. "I lost myself in the darkness long before you did, my love. Who will light the way for you but me?"

She turned her gaze away and settled into the earth, allowing her eyes to close. "I once thought I was the one who could light your way out," she breathed. "Goodbye."

Zoisite gripped her thin shoulders as the eyelashes ceased fluttering, and the features became frozen.

"Not goodbye. Never goodbye; I come." His arms wound around her slowly and folded her into him. The mists rose to form a cocoon around the two enemies as the night's white-hot jewels bore witness to the deaths of the two lovers.

---

_I'll go wherever you will go. _

---

_Now I know some of you (myself included) are not very partial to angst but remember kiddies, angst has some nutritional value and will ensure that you don't develop...dwarfism (like me, again). _


	6. Grasp, Reincarnated Pt 1

These 30 (cross your fingers) drabbles are inspired by the themes created by the managers of the LiveJournal community, 30romances. Its name is self-explanatory, but know that these drabbles (a drabble being a very short work of fiction) surround the civilian, Silver Millennium, and maybe eventually Crystal Tokyo egos of Ami and Zane/Zoisite. I hope my readers enjoy themselves journeying through my Ami/Zoi offerings. Enjoy!

#1: Cold Hands

It was just one of Zane's idiosyncrasies.

Cold water had never deterred the fair skin of his hands, his feet, nor any other body part. In fact, he reveled in it. His roommate, Kunthan, had once made the mistake of slipping into the shower Zane had just used, the icy water still running. It was one of the few moments in his life that the stolid man had been that close to squealing. And not a manly squeal either but a high-pitched, girly squeal.

Thus, it was without hesitation that Zane idly submerged his hands in the Pacific Ocean's frosty salt water, his fingers nimbly chasing minnows away. He lay sprawled on a small boat dock, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows.

In the distance, he could make out two girls in a rowboat, one with flaxen hair, chattering away in her normal fashion. Her companion spoke occasionally but preferred to gaze out at the rippling expanse of blue surrounding her. In doing so, she eventually turned her head to him. Unable to actually see her wide sapphire eyes, he imagined them fixing upon his figure. He stared back at her, lips quirking.

She hurriedly looked away.

As if experiencing a revelation, Zane thought to himself as he continually clenched his fist in the placid water that no matter how he tried to hold on to the silvery liquid, it always managed to slip from his grasp.


	7. Hobby, Reincarnated Pt 2

I'm iffy about this one, but it's what appeared on the screen when I considered the theme, so there you go.

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#8: Collection

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"You know, you two really need a hobby." The disgust in Zane's voice was potent.

Sheepishly, the lovers disentangled themselves from one another. The dull, golden sand soughed as they moved apart, a sheepish but slightly proud look appearing on Mamoru's face as he noted Usagi's heavy breathing. The Senshi leader colored. She fixed her gaze on the young college student who lay negligently in the sand, sunglasses shielding blazing green eyes from the noon sun.

"A hobby?" she repeated.

"Yup, a hobby. You know, like some people collect stamps or paint for pleasure."

"As far as I know, we derive a good deal of pleasure out of what we do now," Mamoru said wickedly and Usagi giggled.

"Ech," was all Zane deigned to articulate.

Zane had arrived in the Narita beach district with his ebony-haired classmate the day before. Mamoru had been intent upon dragging his friend with him to meet his goddess (at least that was what Mamoru had persuaded him to believe). Mamoru also wanted to get Zane away from the blaring city life.

Curiously, Usagi asked, "What's yours?"

Zane had yet to admit it, but perhaps Mamoru hadn't been far off. He felt oddly soothed by the cooling breeze, edged with sea salt, that softened his copper waves of hair.

He rose to a sitting position and removed the sunglasses. "What's my what?"

"Hobby, silly."

Zane considered for a moment. "I'm like a bird watcher."

"Really?" Mamoru and Usagi both said in interest.

"Sort of. I've even gone into collecting."

Usagi looked horrified. "Y-you collect dead birds?" she stuttered, her mind conjuring up grotesque images of stuffed, glassy-eyed ducks.

"Oh no, they're very much alive."

As his girlfriend sighed in relief, Mamoru narrowed his eyes speculatively. "Are these birds female?"

"Possibly," Zane responded, all innocence.

Frowning, Mamoru offered: "Have you ever considered giving your bird collecting up and maybe just acquiring one special bird?"

Zane suddenly recalled the friend of Usagi's whose coy gaze and pearl-white hands he had glimpsed earlier in the day. An intense desire to discover what lay past the surface had attacked him at that moment and it still coursed through his loose-limbed body.

"I have thought about it. Maybe a soft white bird with blue eyes."

"Sounds about right for you," chirped Usagi, finally having caught on to the innuendo. "Would she be a lovebird?"

Zane didn't hear the last remark as he stared out across the turqouise ocean silently, drifing into his thoughts.

Usagi and Mamoru exchanged a look, heavy with conspiracy and mirth.

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Return to Top 


	8. Meeting, Reincarnated Pt 3

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Flowers

* * *

He recognized the smooth curve of her back and the supple white legs, peeking out from underneath a pleated skirt. 

Casually, he strode up to her.

He didn't want to scare her. He didn't want to hurt her.

Then why did he feel like he had before?

He restrained himself from resting his fingers lightly on the small of her back, an action which would have felt so natural. Instead, he tapped her chastely on the shoulder.

"Ami, right?"

"Uh--"

"Zane. I don't think we've been properly introduced yet."

She nodded courteously enough, but her wide eyes seemed to have doubled in size. The lilting blue of them had dimmed a bit, he thought.

He knew she'd seen him on the beach for the first time as she and Usagi had somewhat awkwardly tied their rowboat up at the pier. He'd made as if to help, but by that time she'd slipped away, allegedly to change and do some grocery shopping.

Well, not so allegedly, he admitted to himself as she nervously scooped up a few garlic heads from the street grocer's cart so as to tear her eyes from him.

He noticed how she gripped the brown bag unusually hard. Her breathing was erratic. He even suspected he could hear the pounding of her heart.

But God, could she hear the pounding of his own?

"H-how long are you staying in Narita for?" she asked. He had an idea that she wasn't just being polite.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. What about you?"

"Three weeks," she said in an unwavering tone. She had always been comforted by stalwart, hard facts.

Wait, how did he know that?

"Would you like to maybe have some tea or something?" he asked her, indicating a shop.

"Um...alright." She sounded cautious, as if consenting to jumping into a deep, pitch-black hole.

He hadn't meant to grin, but grin he did. Embarrassingly so. "Great. I'll just go buy them." He saw that she was trying to decide upon which flowers to buy, presumably to sit on her dining table. "These would be perfect." He grabbed a bunch of purple blooms and pushed them into her hands before strolling into the shop.

They were forget-me-nots.


	9. Buccaneer Beau, Reincarnated Pt 8

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_6: Soooo not funny!_  


* * *

The sound that escaped Ami made Zane whip his head around.

"Are you...?"

"Hmmm?" she asked innocently. She tilted her own head, widening her eyes slightly to reinforce the act.

"It's not _funny_," he said crossly, a high, indignant tone in his voice.

"Of course not."

His brow furrowed. "Then why did you giggle?"

"I didn't--"

"You make that same noise when you're trying not to laugh...or when you're...well..." His eyes slid over her body appraisingly to double-check.

Flustering, Ami interrupted: "Well, Zane you have to admit that it is a little funny." Before he could blurt anything out she continued, "And I still don't know what would possess you to pierce your ear."

Zoisite fingered his earlobe. "I was trying to be spontaneous."

Her slim eyebrow arched upwards. "By imitating a pirate?"

"Hey, pirates are the epitome of spontaneity, I'll have you know. Besides, don't you find it the least bit sexy?"

The noise slipped out again and Zane huffed.

"You know, Zane, that girl can't really be blamed for--"

"For calling me '_ma'am_?'" he said shrilly.

Nervously, Ami tapped her highlighter on her massive chemistry textbook before answering. "If it helps any, I think you're all masculinity." She bit the corner of her lip as she tried to soothe his wounded pride.

He turned his back on her, crossing his arms a little petulantly.

"And..." she was getting desperate here "Your hair does have that lovely gloss to it that would make anyone--male or female--envy it..."

By now he was grinning. He hid his laughter however as he approached her, pretending to be drawn in by her compliments.

"Yes?"

"And your body's to die for?" Note to self: throw away all the juvenile magazines Minako had ever lent her to ensure that no one else would fall prey to the six word, teenage cliches. It did appear to be working though since Zane was by this time leaning his elbows upon her dorm's dining/study table, staring at her, looking intrigued.

"Ami?"

"Yes?"

"You're awful at giving compliments."

"I know." She twisted a strand of blue-black hair around a finger. "I'm a triumph when it comes to molecular biology though."

Her boyfriend grinned once more. "You're adorable."

Ami felt her cheeks redden. Even after months and months of this type of prince charming treatment he could still catch her off-guard with those sly comments.

"And that, my love, is how to flatter like a pro. Two words and a blush already." He winked and she squashed the impulse to groan in defeat. Alright, if it was a battle he wanted...

"Actually, Zane, your earring is _very_...sensual," she purred out the last word. She slowly traced her lips with her tongue. Perhaps this didn't quite qualify as flattery so much as it did seduction, but he didn't seem to be having a problem with that. His palms were flat on the table and his shoulders were already stiffening.

Ami rose to finger the small silver stud. She lingered a tad bit longer than would be considered normal before running the tip of her finger down the slope of his neck.  
His eyes refused to tear themselves from her slim fingers. Still, he was not defeated. He went for the less subtle approach however.

"You know what else sounds sensual?" He didn't give her time to recooperate. "You. On this table. Covered in chocolate...and nothing else," he added unnecessarily.

Ami knew she had him when she saw how his gaze had darkened with arousal at his own comment. "Mmm...yes." She let her head fall back as if dreaming of the possibilities. Slyly, she added, as she felt his arms snake around her: "You admit defeat then?"

"Hell yes if it means you'll go through with my suggestion."

A familiar sound slipped out of her lips, and he smirked into the silver dipper that was the hollow of her neck. Because this time, he knew it wasn't a laugh she was holding back.  


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_Hope you enjoyed that. If you've been following this collection of stories, you know that it's a potpourri of eras, and I wondered if you, my readers, had any preference as to the emphasis you want me to put on any particular time period. Personally, I want to to explore Silver Millenium Ami and Zoisite more, but let me know! And I would adore your if you dropped me a review!_


	10. Not Blue, Engaged Pt 1

The second drabble. This one takes place in a different time and their relationship is, obviously, different than it is in the first. Hope you still like it.

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#24: Strings

* * *

"Ami, you're almost as bad as I am! Come _on_," Zane said plaintively to the unresponsive bathroom door. He turned to seize the beach towels provided in the hotel room, muttering under his breath.

The door whined open behind him and he turned, expostulating: "Finally! For the love of—" His speech and neurological function ground to a halt as his eyes lit upon the young woman inching into the bedroom. She returned the gaze, red suffusing her cheeks.

"Minako picked it out," she explained as if ashamed.

A white bikini top, dotted with green, embraced her torso, its daring neckline exposing more rich, creamy skin than he had ever hoped to dream she would show in public. His gaze traveled down her svelte figure, registering the nipped-in little waist and the green-flecked bikini bottom that gave way to slender legs.

Zane inhaled slowly, his mouth having suddenly gone dry.

"I shouldn't wear this," Ami said decisively. "Not at all my style." It was, lamentably, true. Her bathing costumes were all one-pieces, creations he was sure his grandmother would have loved to borrow.

She looked questioningly at him. "What do you think?"

Before a very long line of fervent protests could issue from his mouth he stopped to think (a difficult process at the moment). He recalled the many testosterone-pumped males strewn along the hotel's beachfront who lived to ogle anything remotely female. And Ami was certainly more than remotely female. His insanely jealous ego howled at the thought of their eyes sliding over his fiancée as his own had, and gods, what if they _flirted _with her?

"You're absolutely right," he agreed nobly. "You go and change into that lovely blue swimsuit of yours."

"Zane, they're all blue."

"Well, the new one then," he said, recovering admirably.

She nodded, surprised at his agreement. "Yes, I will, just give me a minute." Her hands went up to the strings that held her top up as she turned to go back and change. "Oh, Zane could you loosen this knot for me? I tied it rather tightly."

If his mouth had been dry before, he was now faced with death by asphyxiation as he felt it suddenly impossible to breathe. "Uh, okay, sure." His hands fairly trembled as they journeyed to his fiancée's soft, pale neck. His fingers settled on the smooth strings and even smoother skin and he felt her quiver underneath his touch. "Say, Ami?"

"Y-yes?" she managed.

"I don't feel much up to swimming anymore. How about we stay here instead, huh?"


	11. Hunger Conquers All, Engaged Pt 2

* * *

#15: Take A Hint

* * *

Her lithe body pressed into his alluringly and he could feel every one of her delicious curves, known only to him. The aroused moan she released into his mouth ripped away any rational thoughts he had left. With a last hungry kiss he tantalizingly he allowed his mouth to trail down her neck as his fingers slid off the thin strap of her nightgown. He nipped the white skin of her shoulder and reveled in the abrupt gasp. Her hands lost themselves in his copper hair and a slim leg snaked around his hips. 

Upon feeling her buck slightly underneath him he groaned, a sound muted by the knocking on the door of their suite.

"Who the hell is that?" he rasped into her ear.

Her eyes opened leisurely like a cat's. "Mmm…room service."

"Are you joking?"

"It _is _dinner time," she said reasonably. "Will you answer it?"

"No," he said violently, continuing his exploration of her neck.

"_Please _Zane," she pleaded as the rapping came again. "I'm hungry."

"So am I," he returned, teeth grazing her bare skin as they slipped off the other strap. She bit down on her lips to stop another moan.

"But Zane…" She moved his very distracting mouth away. Lowering her voice as she slid a hand under his shirt, she said, "They've brought sandwiches—my favorite. Besides—you always come up with creative ways to put food to good use. Remember the honey the night before last?"

Abruptly, Zane leaped off of the couch (and Ami) and rushed towards the door.

"Room service," the man with the tray said unnecessarily.

"Yeah, set it over there. Please."

The hotel employee eyed Zane, whose clothes were disheveled and shirt was half-unbuttoned. He uncovered the tray with a flourish.

Zane stared uncomprehendingly.

"Darling, I must be running low on horny creativity because I honestly cannot see anything kinky about salmon sandwiches with lemon slices. You don't have chocolate syrup or honey on you, do you?" Zane asked of the man a little too eagerly.

The hotel employee blanched. A red Ami sank deeper into the couch.


	12. Lost, Engaged Pt 3

So here's a true 100-word drabble. It's not much, but hopefully I'll be updating Twelve Days soon.

* * *

_#2: Bury

* * *

_

Her finger traced its way through the sand. When she lifted it she found she'd drawn a heart.

"Cute," a voice murmured. He stilled her hand, which had been on the verge of wiping the work of art away. He then began to dig with his free hand, searching, searching…

"What are you looking for?"

His arm wound around her waist. "My own heart. I've lost it. Have you seen it, by chance?"

"You are unfailingly corny."

He tweaked her nose. "I never said _you _stole it."

She looked offended.

He kissed her bare shoulder in apology, only to add: "Thief."


	13. They Don't Lack in Scents, Engaged Pt 4

* * *

_#25: Perfume

* * *

_He tugged on her hand insistently, leading her into the perfumes and toiletries section of the retail store. She protested, teasingly saying that he had enough hair product to last a lifetime.

"I do not!...besides, you can never have too much. And don't look so smug; I was actually thinking about getting something for you."

"For me?"

"For your birthday. I know you'd prefer some book or something like that, but why not change it up a bit?" he suggested. "Maybe perfume?" He picked up a tester and promptly sprayed it at random, unknowingly aiming right at her mouth.

"Pfft!" she practically spat.

He agreed. "Too flowery. I actually don't think we could find anything that smells nicer than the perfume you always use."

"But I don't wear perfume," Ami said, jewel-blue eyes wide in surprise.

She clearly underestimated his intelligence. "Of course you do. It's that citrus-y, vanilla scent."

Ami blinked up at him. "No, really Zane, I don't use perfume."

He returned the look, brow furrowed and bent over so that their eyes were level with one another. Before she could say anything he had leaned over, tip of his nose touching her neck and sniffed. "Well, I'll be. You just happen to smell like that, eh?"

"I..."

"And taste like it too?"

A flush came into her face, and she began to walk away. He, meanwhile, was staring off thoughtfully. "And all this time..."

"Zane, come on." Absentmindedly, she picked up a cologne tester and sprayed it on a small piece of card. Delicately, she sniffed the rich cinnamon-y smell. "Is this the cologne you use?"

He grinned wide. "I don't use cologne."

She nodded and turned to exit the store. In an innocent voice she paused to say, "Yeah; it smells _much_ sexier than _your _scent."


	14. Feel Free to Leave, Married Life Pt 6

She liiiiives! No, I am not just a lovable figment of your imagination--I'm a real boy! Ahem. Well, here you have a continuation of the story "Trapped." You don't need to read that before reading this drabble, but...you know you want to anyway. Read away and please review!

* * *

_#10: Search_

* * *

At two in the morning, impulse and romance had worked their magic on Zane and Amy and guided the former to the city hospital. There he'd surprised his work-a-holic wife with the flower, food, and love necessary for an anniversary celebration. At eight in the morning, however, the rose-colored glasses slipped off and the doctors' call room not the ideal place to have consummated their year of marriage.

"Zane!" Amy hissed. "I love you to death and it's my fault you had to drive here just to spend the night with me, but you need to leave before Dr. Rast sees you. Without a hospital ID, you're not even supposed to _be_ in this wing."

Meanwhile, Zane tramped all around the small room with only a sheet wrapped around the bottom half of his figure.

"It would help to put some clothes on before you leave," she added.

"Don't worry, I don't want you getting into trouble. But I just need…"

Ami frantically pulled her scrubs on as a voice on the intercom called her to room 4. "I have to go, and so do you. What are you still doing?"

Clumsily, Zane held the sheet in place about his slim hips and at the same time, attempted to kneel on the floor. "Come on, where are they?"

"What are you…? Zane," Ami said with panic in her voice as she took in the pajama pants and T-shirt on the OR cot, "where are your boxers?"

"Um…you know, I'm sure we'll be laughing about this tomorrow."

"Zane, if someone finds your boxers lying around here, what will they think?"

"That you cross-dress by night?" her husband of one year suggested.

Ami scrambled to pull the other sheets off the bed in the hopes that the boxers were underneath. Of course they weren't.

"Where in the world could you have put them?" she demanded frantically, lifting the whole mattress up.

Zane wriggled into his university T-shirt. "Maybe I could get away with walking out like this?"

Ami arched an eyebrow in the direction of the sheet he wore as a skirt. "This is a hospital, not an insane asylum. What were you thinking, tossing them aside like that?"

He couldn't resist pulling a smirk. "Oh, you know very well what I was thinking, especially since it was the same thing you yourself were thinking."

Amy ignored him. "You'll just have to go without, I suppose. You don't look particularly normal in your pajama pants anyway, but it's better than that sheet."

"Go WITHOUT underwear? That is definitely some sort of health violation." As he said this, Zane's hold on the sheet loosened just enough for Ami to see that...

"Zane, you're _wearing your boxers!"_

"Am I?" He looked down in interest. "Oh. Ha."

Amy thrust the striped blue pants into her husband's arms. "Ten seconds and counting."

"I'm going, I'm going. Jeez, it could've happened to anyone. As if _you've_ never forgotten you were already wearing your boxers…"


	15. Scrub a Dub, Married Life Pt 1

* * *

_#4: Diabolical_

* * *

"Zane. Zane? Zane!" She walked into the kitchen, struggling to be heard over the roaring of the kitchen sink's faucet. Zane looked up and his gaze darkened slightly as he took in his dripping wet wife, wrapped in only a towel. 

He hurriedly turned his eyes back to the dishes he was rinsing. "Yes, darling?" His voice held an unusually innocuous tinge which at once made her suspicious. 

"Have you seen my scrubs?" 

"Your love? It's belonged to me for as long as I've known." Sappy grin. 

She chewed on her lip to keep herself from grinning back. She was running late and yes her husband was charming in his apron and his mussed honey-blonde hair but she was running late! "Funny. I said, have you seen my SCRUBS?" 

"Oh, "Scrubs." Yes I've seen the show once or twice. Out of the American shows though, I think I prefer Sex...and the City." The emphasis on a certain word did not escape her notice. Nor did the pointed look he gave her body-- it was the familiar "all-baring" gaze that made her shiver. 

"Zane." 

"You're in pain?" he hollered. 

"No, but you will be if you don't tell me where all my scrubs have gone since yesterday!" Ami rarely lost her temper but that didn't mean she couldn't be frustrated to the point of asphyxiation. 

Zane chose to shut off the water just as Ami's volume reached its peak. 

"No need to yell. I'm not deaf," he said mildly as he dried his hands. "Why do you need your scrubs anyway? You're perfect as you are." 

She was suddenly attacked with the desire to roll her eyes, throw something at him, and jump his bones. All at the same time. 

Honestly, men were baffling. 

"I need to get to the hospital. Soon!" 

He discarded the apron. "Why? Aren't you un-clinical today?" 

Her lips fought away a smile. "Yes, today's my non-clinical day but I need to run to the office and take care of some paperwork and the secretaries..." 

"That can't wait?" 

He had edged closer and she was suddenly conscious of how easy it would be for her to loosen her grip on her towel or, better yet, to let him loosen it for her... 

He lightly rested his fingers on the back of her neck and involuntarily, she rolled her head back, letting her eyes shut."I have the day off and you practically do too." His smoking eyes held a devilish gleam to them as she submitted to his touch. "Why not take advantage?" 

"Mmm...I suppose...but--" she straightened up before his lips could settle on hers. "Zane you haven't told me where my scrubs are." 

He didn't pause, though he did briefly glance at the refrigerator. "Oh, I don't think you'll be needing any of your clothes any time soon," he said in a rough tone, taking care of the lone piece of terrycloth with an even rougher movement. 

Soon, Ami was in total agreement. 


	16. Loser, Married Life Pt 2

_Pretty pointless humor, really, but I hope it will entertain you for a minute or two._

* * *

#16: On Top

* * *

Ami admired Zane in many ways, for many reasons. She envied his unruly but gorgeous honey-gold locks, still held her breath when he lazily undid the buttons of his shirt, had always respected his acute intellect. But she was hard put to tolerate his obtuse obstinacy, his need to feel that he had the upper hand.

"Okay, here, flip the coin. Heads I win, tails you lose." 

"Zane, you do realize that that only works on Scooby-Doo, right?" 

"Darn it, I _knew_ I wasn't the only one who saw that episode. Oh, how about a die? Whoever rolls highest, okay?" 

"I am not going to submit to this childish method of solving problems. Would you ever let a huge decision like your child's name hang on the roll of a die?" 

"Definitely not. He's going to be named after me, of course." 

"Goo--what? Named after you? What if we have a girl?" 

"How does Zanita sound to you?" 

"Like a drag queen's name. But considering where the name is coming from..." 

"Not nice," Zane pouted. 

"I'm sorry, darling. But you know, it is my turn, and I think--" 

"I've got it!" he interrupted. "Rock, paper, scissors!" 

"..." 

"Ami?" 

She blew out a defeated sigh. "Fine." 

They silently went through the motions, determination hard in each pair of eyes. Finally, Zane's flat palm smacked Ami's clenched  
fist in triumph. 

"Hah! I win!" he crowed. 

"Two out of three?" she begged, casting up clear, wide eyes at him. 

He groaned. "No," he said firmly. "I won fair and square." 

Ami's brow creased. She still admired Zane in many ways, for many reasons. She envied his sharp, classical nose and powerful,  
cat-like grace. But she could not stand it when his obstinacy and dumb luck (who had come up with that game, anyway?) got him exactly what his animalistic side wanted: to feel dominant. 

She forgot her annoyance, though, when he drew her onto their bed and lazily began to undo the buttons on his shirt, his verdant eyes gazing out at her from underneath their lids. 

"Does Zane Jr. still sound good to you?" he asked in a pleasantly rough voice. She submitted to his offer to help her with her own clasps once his calloused hands had lowered her into a horizontal position. 

If he wanted to be on top tonight, alright then. 

It was her night, though, and he knew it.  



	17. Play For Foreplay, Married Life Pt 3

_Yes, I am fully conscious of just how sucky a person I am. I'm not at all dependable when it comes to updates, and I apologize for it. I have plenty more drabbles typed out, but am not very satisfied with any of them. This one here was the least unsatisfying so I present it to you, my readers. _

_---_

Banter

---

"What would you do without me?" Zane wondered aloud as he gallantly lifted one of ten cardboard boxes out of Ami's arms.

"Oh I don't know--marry again," she responded airily.

"Another man?" he squeaked.

"No, Zane, a woman."

"Well, I suppose having been with me in bed no other man is competition..."

"I suppose if I died you'd probably run off with yourself, you narcissist."

"Oh no, I'd be in mourning for the rest of my life. Maybe kill myself so I wouldn't have to suffer as long."

"Now you're making me sound cold and cruel."

"Serves you right since apparently you're secretly attracted to women." He moved to catch her mouth in a kiss but she ducked mischievously.

He pouted, and she giggled lightly. "Of course I am, my love, didn't I marry you?"

"Why do you always pick on me like that?" He stuck out his bottom lip further and she squealed in light laughter.

"You beg for it, I really think you do."

"Oh..." Feeling a little indignant and unable to conjure up a fitting comeback, Zane plopped the lone box he'd held right back onto Ami's stack.

A high-pitched sound left the dark-haired woman, and she stumbled backward at the sudden weight. With effortless alacrity, her husband caught her in his arms. Unfortunately, his lightning quick reflexes could not save the boxes that had flown from Ami's grasp.

"Zane, look what you did!" she chided, still in the cocoon of her husband's toned, sinewy arms.

"Oh, my beloved, you know what a bore I find foreplay."

His wife's face was a mix between confusion and embarrassment. "I'm not understanding."

"Well, married couples argue, correct?"

"Well..."

"But it's all supposed to end in a passionate make-up session, right? At least, that's how the movies portray it."

Ami struggled to free herself. "Oh, Zane, how crude."

In a dark murmur, he said, "Don't tell me you don't want to skip the foreplay and get to the good stuff." His palm brushed against her hip bone for good measure.

"I'm not a machine like you," she bit out, still annoyed that she would have to collect the boxes again and check to make certain that nothing had been broken. She finally managed to wriggle out of his hold on her and stoop to retrieve the cardboard boxes. She repressed the need to stick her nose in the air as she walked into their new house.

Zane called after her: "That was an argument right? I hope so because that'll sure make for some fun tonight. But no foreplay, alright!"

If she could have managed to free a hand, Ami would have slapped it to her reddening face.

_---_

_Hope you enjoyed! And please note that I am never opposed to a review! Or fifty!_


	18. Time and Place, Married Life Pt 4

* * *

_#9: Thrill _

* * *

Ami had to stifle a squeal when he practically tackled her into the grass.

"Zane!" she chastised as they rolled a few inches, ending with his weight settled onto her body.

"Hmm?" His green eyes glinted in the halogen lights of a nearby coffee shop.

"This really is not the time or place."

"The time and place for what?" he enquired innocently. "All we're doing is lying in the park on a lovely night."

"Is that all? Nothing else is going to come of it?" she said skeptically, trying to ignore the feel of his palm on her hip.

His grin was bright white and devious. "You said it, not me," and he lowered his head so that he was brushing her lower lip with his mouth, coaxing her lips into parting a little while the plush grass beneath her crackled a little and an odd spurting noise sounded…

"Gah!" he said into her mouth and her eyes flew open at the lack of arousal in the exclamation. Then she too felt the flying water droplets and heard the hissing of the park sprinklers.

"Of all the times to turn on the sprinklers when people are trying to…"

"Sprawl out in the middle of the park at midnight?" Ami asked in amusement, not at all bothered by the water soaking through her clothes.

"Have sex actually."

"ZANE!"

"You just don't like saying it; but I hear no complaints when we're doing it." Zane was now attempting to drag his wife away as quickly as possible. "Ami."

"Don't tell me you're deterred by a little water," she purred sweetly. "Weren't we in the middle of something?"

He nailed her with a look. "You choose the worst times to act the vixen. Let's go."  
He grabbed her hand and attempted to hoist her to her feet.

Ami, however, saw no reason to abandon the spot. "Why?"

"My love, we both know you're not as dense as you're acting right now." Panicking, Zane touched his head of blonde hair, hoping he could salvage it before it lost its perfect shape.

"I thought you were in the mood to be spontaneous, Zane," she sighed deeply. She rose slowly. She arched her back just as slowly, exhibiting her thin, soaked blouse. "Well, are we going?"

"Yeah," Zane said, his mouth slackening as he became fully aware of what effects the water had had on his wife's clothing and body. "I think...that there's another park a few blocks in that direction."


	19. Trapped, Married Life Pt 5

_#29: Affaire de Coeur (Affair of the Heart)  
_

* * *

It's been a quiet night, yet she still can't fall asleep. The O.R. cot has always been as stiff and uncomfortable as it feels today, but she rarely has trouble curling up in its white sheets, green scrubs and all, and relaxing into sleep.

She reaches for her cell phone, but doesn't dial home because it's two'o'clock in the morning, and she can't expect him to be awake. They talked in the evening, with the loving silkiness of his voice washing over her and causing her to feel even guiltier than before.

She's not sure how it happened. Between the rush of intubating patients and rushing from one hospital room to the next and hurrying home to help with dinner and grace him with a somewhat hasty kiss on the lips she never even bothered to look at the call schedule for December 2nd. It never occurred to her that she'd be assigned to take call on the very night that marked one full year since their marriage.

It had been too late to change it. She felt crushed, and that feeling doubled when she told him, and he good-naturedly said they'd celebrate the next day, reassuringly running his hands over her back as she looped her arms around his neck.

It's not fair to him, she knows. Guilt wracks her at the thought of her infidelity—her affair with her work, with an old cot.

She flips open her phone to find that she has a voicemail.

"Hey, Ami. I know it's really late—or is it early?—but I just thought that…Kami, Ami, I miss you." The last five words sound broken and tinged with sorrow. They cut at her because she's not sure if he's talking about just this night, their anniversary, or all the other nights she's spent on this old cot instead of wrapped in their ivory white sheets and his arms.

She doesn't listen to the rest of the message. Instead, she calls his cell phone.

It's ringing.

Outside, the song, "Memory," chimes plaintively. Ami nearly jumps out of her skin and the cot. Without another thought, she opens first one door then a set of white double doors and there he is, with a large container of food and a single iris flower.

"Zane," she breathes. Underneath his coat he's wearing his T-shirt and cotton pajamas and his tangled coppery hair is no longer in a ponytail. He walks in with a lopsided smile. She almost cries.

"I couldn't sleep," he tells her and she takes the food and the flower, then gifts him with an anniversary kiss that leaves him dazed. Her whispered apologies are muffled to oblivion as he deepens the kiss and turns a deaf ear to the words.

* * *

_I'm trying to use the gift that is spring break to crank out drabbles so look out! And please, please, review!_


	20. Alternate Meeting, Reincarnated Pt 3

_So this was written a very long time ago and although I know I've already published a meeting drabble, I like this one too much to let it sit on my computer, unloved and unseen :) Because this is just another meeting scene, there will actually be 31 drabbles in this collection, making the title...well, untruthful. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! __

* * *

#18: Disheveled ; In the Rain_

* * *

Through a smoky window, Zane could just make out the silver threads of rain, unrelenting in their quest to meet asphalt. A porcelain cup traveled to his warm lips, depositing tea down his throat. Nights such as these caused him to feel oddly nostalgic--as if he were returning to a time and place that he had only known in a dream.

The light chime that accompanied the entrance of a patron into the café was deadened by thunder crashing in response to the defiant streak of light that had crossed an ink-black sky moments before.

Zane's eyes briefly left the window. In that moment, the fraction of time it takes a butterfly to flutter its wings, he saw her—recognized her. Yet, it was so much more than that.

The rain had paid homage to her, her skin damp and lustrous and pale like a saltwater pearl. Beneath the dim light, she swept her wet bangs out of her heart-shaped face.

Despite the bustling that accompanies a popular café, he was oblivious to everything but the pattering of raindrops and the quiet steps she took. Towards him.

The rain did her justice, he thought, like the laughing sunshine and the swift, hair-tossing breeze could not. Not even the frothy waves of the ocean loved her quite like the droplets clinging to her ebony locks and cotton blouse.

These thoughts swept through Zane's mind within a few seconds, yet it seemed an eternity before her tiny feet brought her to him. Her eyes, a melted blue, appeared lost somehow as they met his. She halted abruptly, and he heard the hardwood floor hiss in response.

His signature grin greeted her, but it disappeared when he took in her expression. Her lips were parted and eyes wide and puzzled. Without warning, a wounded heart stirred in those eyes. He was seized with the urge to tear his gaze from hers.

"Hey," he said uncertainly, "I've seen you on the beach, I think. Rowing with that blonde friend of yours? Serena?" Her hand, he noted, gripped a chair with surprising strength as if she were channeling all her turbulent emotions into it.

She nodded mechanically, yet she hadn't really heard the words. Pain still lingered in her face and he did not question it. In fact, inexplicably, Zane felt a wave of pain sweep through him as well.

"Zoisite?" she asked in sweet, broken notes, then bit the corner of her mouth, as if she'd uttered a forbidden word.

"Zane," he corrected, smiling, still feeling uneasy.

"Oh. I must have mistaken you for someone else." She began to draw back, suddenly eager to disappear, stammering something about returning to her friend's beach house.

"No, Ami," he flung out then stopped in wonder at the name which had fallen from his lips.

Her head swung around. She studied him, puzzlement still pervading her features.

The word, "Mercury" died on his lips as he looked into her delicate features. The beginnings of understanding formed in his mind, but such self-loathing rose up in him that he knew he could no longer say what he'd longed to say for so long, for millennia.

At least, he could not say it quite yet.

"Take an umbrella," he offered, holding out his own.

She smiled, a real glint of humor in her eyes. "You should know better than anyone that I don't need that."

He vaguely felt that she was right.

"Will I see you around?" he asked.

She faltered. "Please don't ask me that," she whispered.

"But I want to know." He rose and stepped forward, too close for her comfort, he knew. But he couldn't let her go so soon, so suddenly. He would die if she left him now, if she slipped out of his hands like raindrops.

"I need this." His long bronzed fingers brushed against her forehead.

She shivered at the touch or the cold, he didn't know which. She gave in to his touch and moved closer, briefly sensing his warm palm resting on her cheek. Then, without warning she touched his collar and drew herself up to whisper into his ear.

"Soon."

She left then, willing to brave the rains once more. Leaving him to wonder if he could do the same.


	21. VerticallyChallenged, Reincarnated Pt 4

_This takes place a while after Ami first meets Zane. By this time, the two have warmed to each other… _

_It's a long 'un, and I may split it up later, but I'll leave it for now.  
_

_Enjoy!_

---

_#31: The Bookstore_

She was struggling, albeit valiantly, to get the book. Her pearly white hand went first up, then down, now higher because she'd jumped, then low again. Even looking at her from behind, he could see her whole body sigh in defeat. It was about time she asked for help. By the time she'd pivoted around, he was only inches away from her.

"Need some help?" he asked in his low, rich voice.

She blinked up at him. Ami was still unused to his penchant for standing so close to a person that the only thing he needed was a flag to fully lay claim to her personal bubble.

She sputtered: "I--well, yes. Zane, would you mind getting the--"

Before she had time to spit the name out, he'd handed her Swann's Way.

"A little dull, but eh, no one's perfect," he airily said of her beloved Proust.

Normally, she would have taken offense, but now she seemed only to be immersed in thought. Her nose wrinkled in displeasure at something and he began to look concerned.

"Ami?"

"I hate being short," she sighed.

"Uh…"

She blushed, but remained serious about the issue. "Seriously. You can't imagine how helpless you feel."

"Oh, it's not that bad."

"Yes, because you would know," she said, pointedly craning her neck back to look up at him.

"I was your height once."

"Oh, and how did you like fifth grade?"

"Ami," he laughed, lightly smacking her arm. "I would rather be short than tall."

She inclined her head to the side this time, and looked rather adorable doing it.

He nodded, clinching the deal with the all-powerful reason behind this: "Yup, that way I would be the right height for any guy, since he'd always be...taller than me…just right for…" he trailed off, realizing that what he'd just said was puzzling gabble that could be taken a number of ways.

What she chose to dwell on was not however, the fact that he had just accidentally suggested that he was interested in men, but…"Any guy?" she said shyly.

He tensed up and looked her square in those crystal blue eyes. Who the devil did she have in mind? "Yes…" he said tentatively. "But, well, a better height for certain guys than others, you know, because if there's too much of a height difference…that is, I don't see basketball players in your future..." What was this nonsense he was babbling?

Her nod was vague to say the least. "Um...thank you. I guess I'll pay for this now." She swiveled around.

If she had decided to turn back around a few seconds later she would have witnessed the spectacle of Zane banging his head against the bookshelf. Multiple times. 

* * *

  
She sat reading at a picnic table that sat on the skirt of the beach, within reach of the cresting and crashing waves. Normally, she would have sat on the beach itself, but Proust was too precious (and pristinely new) to read in the sand.

For a moment, her mind drifted back to Zane's confusing chatter earlier and wondered what exactly he'd meant. She'd heard from the ever-knowing Mina that boys thought girls were confusing—did they have it wrong or what?

"Hey."

Ami literally jumped out of her seat, the "Hey" having come from a familiar young man who had apparently just taken the seat next to her.

"My goodness, don't you knock?"

"Wha-?"

"Nothing," she said hurriedly. "And hi."

"Ami."

"Zane?"

"What I said earlier…"

"About Proust?"

"What? No, about height differences…"

"—oh—"

"Well, I meant it." Then he crossed his arms and smiled triumphantly.

Ami hadn't the foggiest idea what he'd just said, nor how she was meant to respond to it.

"I'm sorry, I'm not following. If you're agreeing that I'm short…"

"No, no!" he exclaimed. Then, upon a moment's contemplation, "…well, yes, you are."

"Hm."

"But even though that means that you could get any guy, you wanted, andtrustmeyoucouldanyway," he rushed out, "I, on the other hand, could not get any girl I wanted, based on height. I'm only of average height for a man, you see. Even below average," he added with a sigh.

Ami leaned her back against the edge of the picnic table, looking at him in utter confusion.

"I'm not making sense, am I?"

She silently shook her head. "Perhaps, you'd like to start over?" she suggested kindly.

"No, I'd only bungle this up more. Okay," he steeled himself, "I'm trying to say that I would only be able to date a girl who was shorter than me—"

"—naturally—"

"—and there are quite a few, though there aren't as many when they're all wearing preposterous heels. However, I would not be able to _kiss_ just any girl who was shorter than me."

The girl near him flushed a rosy color, some semblance of understanding coming to her. She didn't dare ask what the right height was.

He rose from his seat and walked around to the adjacent edge of the picnic table, against which she was standing. "Shall I tell you what height such a girl would need to be?"

He didn't wait for her to answer, so exhilarated did he feel: "Five foot three!"

Zane swore he heard a cricket chirp.

Ami looked down. "Oh?"

Zane felt his mood fall ridiculously low, practically into his shoes. "Oh?" Oh? Oh? Oh? He had just ANNOUNCED, made it clear as crystal, that he wanted to kiss her and that was all she could say? Unless…

"Ami," he tried, "aren't you five foot three?"

She shook her head. "Five feet, even."

Oh. That must mean he had miscalculated the difference in their heights or maybe he was shorter than he'd thought he was…

Ahem.

Right, he had more important things to tend to. At the top of the list was the blue-eyed, pale-skinned, five-feet-even girl before him.

A grin split his face all of a sudden. "Would you care to gain three inches, Ami?"

The man was nuts. She adored him more than she could say, but perhaps it was best to suggest a nice, quiet insane asylu—

"Zane!" she squeaked, as he lifted her up unceremoniously, then sat her down on the edge of the picnic table she'd been resting against.

"Perfect," he sighed, before meeting the perfectly-positioned pair of lips that bemusedly, sweetly received his kiss.

* * *

  
_This piece was inspired by events surrounding my own life. Well, not events, just the fact that I, like Ami, am vertically challenged and am daily reminded of the fact. Let's hope one day it turns to my advantage like it did for Ami :D_

Please, please review! 


	22. First, Reincarnated Pt 5

* * *

_#11: Mission Impossible_

* * *

Mission 1: Escape the Roommate

"_Ami_, your _date's_ here," Usagi sang down the corridor. Her voice subsequently demanded of the man at the door: "What?? _Yes_, I know you come here all the time. But never as her _date_." She said the last word on the peak of a major giggle, urging Ami to fairly rush out of the bedroom, down the hall, and ultimately slide to a stop before Usagi and Zane.

"Eager, aren't we?" her roommate cackled.

Ami mentally gave thanks for the fact that none of the other girls was around to echo Usagi's merciless teasing.

Zane meanwhile, had his hands thrust in his pockets and met Ami's eyes with a nervous smile. "Hey," he greeted. She noticed that he wore a backpack.

"Hi."

"_Hellooo_," chimed in the third wheel. "Oh, I should take pictures!"

"NO," chorused the other two.

Usagi's lower lip jutted out in a pout. "But none of the other girls is here to see you go off on your first date and I really think--" She stopped when she saw just how pitiful an expression had come into Ami's blue eyes. "_Fine_, no pics for now. Okay, Ami, you and your gentleman caller just get out of here before the next summer Olympics. Bye!" she chirped as she pushed them out the door.

Outside the beach house, the two stared at the ocean, whose hues of blue and green spread before them.

"Did she just call me a gentleman caller?"

"She's been watching a lot of Jane Austen movies lately."

"Ah. I'm sorry to say I left my ruffled shirt and cravat at home."

"So unthinking of you," she said in a serious tone.

He grinned over at her. "Shall we then, milady?"

"Where to?"

"You'll see."

Mission 2: Break and Enter

"_Crap_." Zane tried the door again, but it remained really and truly locked.

"It was a very nice idea," Ami soothed him. She almost wanted to hug him, his expression was so absurdly disappointed.

Zane heaved a sigh and the two of them backed up to fully appreciate the view. In unison, they craned their necks to gaze up at the forgotten white lighthouse.

"It was dumb of me to think we'd be able to get in so easily. I did think that that pick lock would actually work instead of snapping like a freaking twig."

Ami smiled. She darted a look at her purse and pursed her lips up thoughtfully. She wondered...

"Hold on. I wasn't much into the idea of committing a felony tonight, but..." Zane watched as she fished something from her wallet. She then bent over the only entrance door to the lighthouse, slid something in the door crack, fiddled around, and then he heard that 'click' adored both by burglars and lovers desperate for an exciting new make out spot.

"Wha--"

The unexpectedly good housebreaker held up an innocent-looking library card.

Zane shook his head. "You probably get this all the time, but you are a genius," he informed her.

She only smiled timidly and blushed.

Mission Three: Avoid the Glassware

"_Goddamnit_!" Zane swore, automatically whipping his hand out of his backpack.

Ami immediately left the stunning view out the lighthouse's giant window and crawled over to where he sat. "Are you okay? What happened?"

He ruefully sucked on the tip of his finger. "Being intelligent, I brought along champagne glasses for our picnic. Did you know glass can break? Apparently I didn't."

Ami bent over the cut, then pulled Zane's water bottle out of his backpack's side pocket. She ran water over the cut then asked for a napkin. He shook his head: "They're all at the bottom of the backpack." Somehow, in spite of his protests, she managed to extract the napkins and pressed one to his finger.

"Just apply pressure," she softly told him.

"Thanks." She realized how close their faces were. She saw suddenly just how soft and smiling his mouth was and the way his green eyes shone in the golden wash of the sunset.

"You don't have to keep holding it."

Embarrassed, Ami made as if to let go of his warm hand. But he tightly held onto _her_ hand so it couldn't escape.

"Doesn't mean I don't want you to."

Mission Four:Light My Fire

"Won't we get in trouble if we try to light the lamp?" Ami asked. Zane had found an old tank of kerosene and, using one of his matches, was trying to light the giant old kerosene lamp that stood in the center of the room.

"The lighthouse has been out of service for years; there's a newer one that functions now." He pointed out the window and faintly she could make out the shadow of another lighthouse. "If we turn this lamp around so it can't face the window, no one will be able to really see the light."

Seeing the reason in this, Ami didn't protest. She did, though, avert her eyes when the sudden flame lit the lamp into blinding brightness. Zane backed away from the lamp and led Ami to a place where the light couldn't directly shine at her.

"It's very lovely," she admitted, after she'd opened her dark blue eyes wide. The light streamed across her features.

"Very," he agreed, gaze clearly focused on her.

She turned to him, and instead of blushing violently (she only blushed very faintly) she met his eyes.

He leaned over her and gently touched his fingers to the back of her neck. She slowly returned the touch by settling a trusting hand on his shoulder.

Light flooded her senses.

Mission Five: Get Home in a Timely Manner...

...Mission Five: Failed.

* * *

_  
In case some bad reader is wondering, __**no****, **__they didn't do anything naughty (it's their first date!), just got caught up in each other. :) Que cute, I know._

_Please review!!_


	23. Phantom, Engaged Pt 5

_Paradox

* * *

_

"You're so beautiful."

Ami tilted her head up to look at him with an amused smile playing about her pink lips. Those same lips indulged him when he lowered his mouth to plant a firm kiss on them.

"Zane, don't be silly. You know perfectly well I'm not."

He ignored her outright as he sank into the sand next to her, eyes still pinned to her face. "Sometimes I don't think you're real. That's why I can't keep my eyes off of you—I'm afraid you'll disappear as soon as I turn away."

"I think that third pina colada got to you."

He paused thoughtfully. "Maybe." Shrugging, he continued: "You weren't always beautiful."

"Wasn't I?" she teased.

"I think I started out thinking you were a little mousy."

"Oh my. Call the wedding off this instant."

"Shush." He wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer to him. Her sarong loosened as he did so and he slipped it off her, leaving her in her bathing suit. He studied her intently and where in the past she would have averted her eyes, she only met his gaze solemnly.

"Are you a phantom, by any chance?"

"What exactly are the criteria for a phantom?" she asked seriously.

"A pale complexion."

"Check," Ami said, goosebumps rising on the white skin of her shoulder when Zane paid homage to it with his lips.

"The ability to transform. Check, since you're a freaking Sailor Senshi."

Ami held up her small hands. "How about cold hands?"

Zane clasped them within his own, those hands which seemed to remain clammy no matter how vigorously he rubbed them. "Check. Can you walk through walls, by any chance?"

"Not that I know of."

"Too bad. I was hoping we could start a jewel robbery business."

"Shame," Ami sighed. They were quiet for a few moments. The sound of waves crashing to meet the beach filled their ears along with the seabirds' plaintive cries.

Quietly: "Zane, you know that I won't disappear."

"I won't let you. You're the most solid, real thing in the world to me."

"Now I know you drank too much. You keep contradicting yourself—a solid, real phantom?"

Zane gave no indication of being put off. "What can I say? Love's a paradox."


	24. Magic, SilMil Pt 2

#5: Magic

* * *

General Zoisite first discovered Mercury's abilities when the Princess called upon her to perform the most death-defying of tasks.

"Do what?"

"Be a darling and fix that ice sculpture of a mermaid? Its torso is missing uh *cough* part of the bikini."

Ami stared out of large blue eyes, waited a few seconds, then realized the princess was in earnest. Restraining herself from voicing her opinion on mermaid ice sculptures, the Senshi went off to do her duty.

General Zoisite entered the palace's banquet hall which would soon seat hundreds of (mostly intoxicated) noblemen. Like a hawk that has spotted its prey, he immediately descended on Mercury, at the same time she reached the melting sculpture.

"Princess Mercury," he greeted chirpily. He swooped into a bow, his enthusiasm at running into her poorly hidden.

Mercury deigned to smile. "Sir." She then turned to the sculpture as if preparing to tackle String Theory.

"It seems to be missing an article of clothing," Zoisite commented airily, "Though perhaps not a necessary one?" He glanced at the Senshi's face and was disappointed that far from blushing, she grimaced.

"Yes, that should do it," he thought he heard her mumble. More loudly, though, she replied: "Does it? We'll have to fix that."

Before he could blink, a stream of ice-blue shards had flown out from her fingertips with mind-numbing speed. They swirled around and towards the sculpture, and with light, sharp chimes fitted into the sculpture, piece by piece until they ultimately formed a modest top to clothe the mermaid.

A stunned Zoisite regarded the sculpture, then the Senshi standing beside him. She cocked her head up to look at him and smiled at his expression.

"You may have believed you knew where my nickname of 'Ice' came from--" The blonde general began a spluttering protest, but she stopped him with a raised hand.

"Anyway, this is the real reason." Her mouth twisted into a rueful smile and she swiftly turned back, pretending to worry over the ice mermaid's pearl necklace, prodding it so that iridescent spheres leapt from her finger and formed around the mermaid's neck.

If the blue-haired woman had meant that as a dismissal, Zoisite didn't take the hint. Instead of leaving her side, he continued to regard the petite Senshi with interest. He would never call her 'Ice,' to her face or mentally, but she certainly _seemed_ completely disinterested in his company. He forgot that, however, as it allowed him to run his eyes over the graceful dip of her pale neck, the puckered brow, the dark, inky eyelashes...

He slid out of his reverie long enough to see that a thick shard of ice had caught on her glove. "Here, let me get that--"

Leaned over without warning, lithe, masculine form too close for comfort, breath warm on her temple...

--fingers briefly touching her pulse, his mild surprise to feel it suddenly beat rapidly under his knuckles--

"Oh!"

With a jerk, her wrist sent a sudden stream of ice into the air, which miraculously landed on the mermaid's head as a coral-like circlet.

Both Zoisite and Mercury seemed a little dazed over what had just happened. But when she saw the realization dawn in his green eyes (_not so disinterested, is she?)_, she bit her lip.

"Guess I've got a little magic in my fingers, too, eh?" And he had the audacity to wink, a wolfish grin now on his face.

* * *

_Reviews are adored!!_ _And Happy New Year!_


	25. Nuclear Missiles, Married Life Pt 7

Lotsa dialogue this time. Hope you like!

* * *

#21: Devil's Advocate

* * *

"Not tonight."

Not tonight.

Not tonight?

Not_ tonight? Not tonight?_

_Nottonight. Nottonight. Nottonight. Nottonight!!_

He's misheard her. Yes, that must be it.

No, no he has perfect, acute hearing--his doctor told him so.

A faintly hysterical Zane then proceeds to tell his deluded wife in great length and detail (and what the heck, let's add in a few anecdotes!) just why her refusal to sleep with him tonight could be _the_ worst decision of her life.

Oh to the snap, he thinks triumphantly when he finally pauses for breath.

"Run that by me again?"

"My God, do I have to explain _everything? _Didn't you hear me the first time?_"_

"Yes but, for some unearthly reason, I still don't understand how one night of abstinence is going to end with our estrangement, untimely deaths and the...accidental deployment of multiple nuclear missiles and the subsequent apocalypse?"

Shrugs. "_Clearly_, you didn't pay any attention in your classes."

"I never took abnormal psychology," she snaps back. "And this squabbling is just putting me in a bad mood."

"As in a raging, aroused mood that you're soon going to channel into some horizontal mambo?"

"..."

"What?" Innocent eyes.

"You've been reading Harlequin Romances." It's not a question.

"Have not!"

A skeptically arched brow.

He blows a lock of gold out of his face. "Not...often."

"Good night."

"_Amiiiiiii."_

"I. Am. Tired."

"You. Are. MissingOut."

"My loss. Tell me in the morning what exactly I missed out on."

"Oh har-de-har-har. You're being such a..."

"Such a...?"

"Such a...devil's advocate right now!"

"Come again?"

"You know, we really need to get that hearing problem of yours checked out."

"Zane, did you just read that term for the first time in a book?"

A Harlequin Romance, to be precise. Very educative reading of substance, thank you very much.

"No!...Yes! But it's still completely relevant to this conversation! I went on to look it up and a devil's advocate is"--deep breath-- 'someone who takes a position he or she does not agree with for the sake of argument.' You _want_ to make love, but you're pretending you don't, just so we can argue."

"...gah." Eye twitch.

"Was that you agreeing?"

"You know what...fine. Fine. Anything to stop your babbling."

"Oh la, Ami, you know just what to say to turn me on." Eyelash flutter.


	26. Color Me Crazy, Reincarnated Pt 6

7. Think pink

* * *

"Oh my," Zane breathed as he walked into the small living room of Ami and Usagi's quaint wooden beach house.

Usagi only beamed, whereas Ami had on a quieter, but still amused, smile. "Do you like it, Zane?" the blonde girl demanded, unnecessarily pointing at the neon pink highlight in her hair.

" 'S um, lovely." Zane cast his green eyes down before dropping onto the couch, right beside Ami.

"I KNOW!" she burst out.

Zane shot wide eyes at Ami who whispered, "She had a few sweets earlier."

The young man made a note to himself never to give Usagi any cookies, cakes, candies, or anything with sugar for the rest of the trip. "I need to show it to Mamo-chan, now," Usagi informed them brightly. "Thanks for helping, Ames!" she called as she grabbed a pair of flip flops before racing out the door.

"My God, she'll stop traffic with that," Zane commented.

Ami giggled, but hit his arm sternly. "It suits her."

"I didn't say it doesn't." His eyes strayed to the coffee table, which was cluttered with bottles filled with different suspicious liquids, including one that looked to be dark blue dye.

"I like that one." He regarded his girlfriend for a moment. "I think it'd suit you."

Ami backed away, shaking her head. "Uh, no you don't."

Zane only crept closer, having snatched the bottle up. "Oh come on, Ami, just one highlight. What's the worst that could happen?"


	27. If You Like Pina Coladas, Engaged Pt 6

Theme: _Headache_

* * *

Having opened the door to room service, Zane hazarded a friendly smile at the waiter standing before him. That individual met the greeting with an unmistakeable look of fear. This was not surprising, since just a few nights before, Zane had demanded of him certain sexually-applicable condiments. Considering the leper-like treatment he and Ami had been getting the past few days, news on sex maniacs seemed to travel fast in this hotel, Zane mused.

"Please come in." The guy looked too scared to even enter the room.

Holding back a shudder, the waiter craned his neck into the room (to make sure there weren't any shocking sexploits still going on) and, inhaling, wheeled the cart into this den of sin.

"Thank you, sir," the blonde tried, once he'd signed the tab; his only response was a silent shake of the head.

Zane still wore a rueful grin on his face when Ami entered the room, traces of sleep worn into her forehead and eyelids.

"Morning sleepyhead," Zane greeted a little too gleefully. This was a first—normally, _Ami_ was the one waking up hours before Zane even considered the possibility.

"Meh."

Zane grinned even wider. "Headache, love?"

"Meh."

Her fiancee hurried to pull a chair out for her at the breakfast table. "I told you you'd feel those pina coladas in the morning."

She remained silent, only pausing to level a near-glare at him, as if to say "Damn you, you had more drinks than I did!"

Zane responded to the look with an innocent shrug."Guess I know how to hold my liquor better." But after watching Ami, a pained look on her face, try to reach for the coffee in comically slow motion, he took pity on her and poured a cup out. He stroked her head softly, "Poor baby."

Ami blinked up at him. "Zane, what... what exactly happened last night?" she finally asked, albeit fearfully.

"Oh, um, well." He cleared his throat. "Look, there's healthy fruit too! Doesn't it look yummy?"

"_Zane_. Tell me the worst."

"Oh, um, well...aside from publicly confirming a long-hidden desire to become a pole dancer, nothing you crazy girl. Here eat the banana, sweetie."

The young woman's eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them-veritable frisbees of dark blue. She lifted a small hand to her cheek in shock. "Y-you're joking right?" she whispered.

Her fiancee was quick to put her out of her misery. "Well duh!" he said, a little too loud for her sensitive ears. "You were _fine_, love, just a sleepy drunk the whole time. In fact, I think you get even more philosophical when you're drunk! Kept trying to debate the neocolonialist tactics of Clinton and NAPTA, or something."

"NAFTA," Ami corrected automatically. She digested his information slowly as she nibbled on a piece of toast. "So I didn't embarrass myself?"

"I mean, it's kind of embarrassing trying to salsa with Aristotle, but otherwise, nope!" he assured her brightly.

Ami nodded. She continued to eat, wincing a little if so much as a fork clattered to the table. Zane cast a sidelong glance at her and smiled, putting up a hand to gently smooth her hair out of her face. "Want to take it easy, today? We can watch a quiet movie on TV or something."

She agreed to this plan, rising to retreat to the bathroom for a hot shower.

Over the hissing sound of water, the telephone rang out. Zane ambled over to answer it.

"Hello? Wh-who? How did you get this number? NO, ACROBATIC AMY DOES NOT LIVE HERE; YOU OUGHT TO BE _ASHAMED_ OF YOURSELF! GO AND TAKE A COLD SHOWER...AND DO THREE HAIL MARY'S WHILE YOU'RE AT IT, YOU PERVERT!"


	28. Poison, SilMil Pt 7

_#27: Love, hate and the like_

_Silver Millennium Period  
_

* * *

In the dim recesses of her sensibility, she realized that she was drunk. Yet those same abysses of common sense told her she had not touched Zoisite's ruby liquor-the "poison" tranquil in its crystal decanter-all night. It was a different kind of intoxication, a type that flung her into dark, shadowed corners where inhibition and self-control could not breathe. It roared through her blood vessels, seeped into her mind. She had been freed from a prison and with that freedom came the frightened rush a caged bird feels when it is released into an eternal forest.

A hand pressed at the nape of her neck, burning and hard, forcing her to tilt her head back. Another hand roamed underneath the folds of her gown, feeling for the warm skin of her upper thigh. Her body was flaming, alight with desire and she unhesitantly hooked a knee around one of his slim hips.

Somehow, one of them, both of them, lost their balance and they were sent tumbling onto the bed.

Briefly, she cut off the kisses of his ministering lips to gasp out a small laugh. Her eyes opened to meet his, and she was startled by a lost look in his green eyes.

"What is it?" she asked in a soft voice.

His eyes widened at the realization that she could vaguely read his thoughts. "I...don't know."

Those looks came like swift pulses when he thought she wasn't looking and usually vanished in an instant. But they seemed to cross his face more and more ever since he and the Shitennou had begun going on mysterious delegations around the Moon...

She gently smoothed his rumpled hair, bringing her hand to his cheek. His eyes grew hard as he gazed at her flushed cheeks and pouting lips and in an instant, he had buried his face in her neck and blanketed it with kisses.

"I'm drowning, Amy," he murmured into her skin.

She was frightened by his expression when he pantingly lifted his head to look back at her, the clouded green meeting hers. "Then I'll save you," she told him.

Hours later, he rose from the bed and her eyes fluttered open at the movement. He remained seated beside her slender form, staring at the wall opposite. His dark profile cut through the dim Parisian lamplight that filtered through the curtains; he didn't appear to realize she'd woken up. She could just make out a grim smile on his face as he whispered, "Or maybe I need to be saved from you."


End file.
